AitDBT Gift Ficlets
by EpikalStorms
Summary: The 20 ficlets I promised to the followers of And In The Darkness Bind Them. Ficlets will not be very long, of course(unless I get carried away, in which case either I am terribly sorry or you're very welcome), but will hopefully be well written(I'll try my best to please you). Table of contents can be found in chapter one, along with any warnings that may apply to the ficlets.
1. Table of Contents

**Table of Contents**

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Slot #1: **done!**

 **Another. Professional. Tragedist**

Aragorn, heir to the Gondorian throne, is not a very big fan of cats. Viper, however, absolutely loves them, and that frustrates Aragorn to no end.

 **Warnings** : slash pairing. Cats are also scheming villains. Tharbadir's in on it.

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Slot #2: **done!**

 **Soluna Skystar**

The Fellowship has personal story time and Viper is the main attraction. Somehow, Viper feels like the universe it out to get him, and his Fellowship fam really doesn't like his aunt and uncle in any way, shape or form.

 **Warnings** : mentions of child abuse. Heavy usage of Eragon elements in this one. And Viper can cook good, wow.

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Slot #3: **to-do**

 **Shadowdude333**

We have Viper, the all-knowing teen with the ever-present penchant for killing himself, and then getting better. We also have the pseudo-werewolves, to whom this immortal teen is very much the accidental founder of. And then we have the Volturi, who treats Viper like family; some sort of twisted mix between 'that weird but fun uncle,' the 'adorably brilliant little brother,' and the 'terribly fascinating subject of a science experiment.'

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #4: **to-do**

 **Momochi Zoey**

Viper in the verse of The 100, mentor/student relationship with Lexa, possible Viper/Anya pairing.

 **Warnings** : Possible slash.

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Slot #5: **to-do**

 **nanayoung**

The story behind the Merlin BBC entry in Viper's journal.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #6: **to-do**

 **Ladyroo88**

Viper/[Eric or Godric] from the True Blood verse.

 **Warnings** : slash pairing.

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Slot #7: **to-do**

 **Arashi-Kage-Namikaze**

A pairing ficlet between Viper and Tauriel the elf.

 **Warnings** : het pairing.

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Slot #8: **to-do**

 **Inyx Dawn**

Viper/Fellowship family fic, possibly featuring Eothan and Freda.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #9: **to-do**

 **FireLark**

Mikage kisses someone other than and very different from Nanami Momozeno. His name is Viper. Tomoe is very much _done_ with his life.

 **Warnings** : probable slash pairing.

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Slot #10: **to-do**

 **Allusive Ryder**

Viper/Aragorn, two dorks tip-toeing around each other. The Fellowship gets sick of it and decide to team up and play matchmaker.

 **Warning** : slash pairing.

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Slot #11: **to-do**

 **silverosprey98**

Viper unknowingly casts a translation spell over the Fellowship, and they finally understand the depressing things he's saying to them thinking they don't understand him. Things get a little awkward and tense before they get better.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #12: **to-do**

 **AEtheral Devastation**

Somehow, for whatever reason, Viper/Galadriel happens.

 **Warnings** : het pairing. Possible threesome?- -Or, Galadriel just has _two_ men. Because she's Galadriel and she can do that.

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Slot #13. **Enuescaris**

([claim on hold]

 **Still waiting on you, my friend. No rush, though, you've still got a while yet, ahah...** )

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Slot #14: **to-do**

 **DragoonBuster1**

A study on how Eowyn and Viper become bros, and no one really understands.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #15: **to-do**

 **NotAFro**

Viper in the NCIS verse. Tony-broskis. Gibbs is best dad.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #16: **to-do**

 **archerongoddess**

Viper/Aragorn platonic bromance, Viper comforting Aragorn about something for reasons.

 **No warnings apply.**

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Slot #17: **to-do**

 **Catkyn**

Viper's initial reaction to the 'immortal' elves of Arda.

 **Warnings** : possible vague spoilers for AitDBT at the end. Undecided.

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Slot #18: **to-do**

 **Lucinda Silver**

After the war, Legolas is sent to the dwarves as an elven ambassador. Convinced that the social gap between the two races is one not so easily settled, Viper tags along. Just in case, he says.

 **Warnings** : slash pairing(Legolas/Viper)

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Slot #19: **to-do**

 **Pink Pickles**

Viper gets a dragon in the Inheritance Cycle verse.

 **Not-Really-Warnings:** characters feeling protective siblingness for Viper.

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Slot #20: **to-do**

 **HuonParticlesAreHarmless**

 **BookLover2401**

Viper in the Doctor Who verse, meeting 10th, who's oblivious to his identity and doesn't figure it out until later. And the doctor, well... he isn't quite sure how exactly he missed it, but he's certainly not complaining.

 **Warnings** : sort of possible AitDBT spoilers. Maybe.

* * *

 **Hey guys! I'm so sorry this is all taking me so long. I'm sort of turning 18 this year and becoming an actual adult sounds v scary so I'm sort of hiding under my bed all this time... there's a lot of crying... and fear... Terrifying stuff's going on here, my friend. Scary stuff. Help meeeee!**

 **Anyway! I'm trying my very best to get these done as soon as possible, it's the least you all deserve for sticking around my lame ass *laughs nervously*  
**

 **I'ma little behind in schoolwork at the moment and my teacher is getting antsy because of it, but.. otherwise I'm doing alright, I guess? I'll work on these ficlets and the next chapter of AitDBT in between my schoolwork as much as I can. Thanks again for being so patient, you guys! Really means a lot~**

 **~Skye**


	2. Slot 1: Another Professional Tragedist

**Slot #1**

 **Another. Professional. Tragedist's gift ficlet**

 **Viper/Aragorn**

 **Words: 7133**

* * *

Aragorn, Heir to the Gondorian throne, was not particularly fond of cats. They made the back of his throat itch when they rubbed against his face, their fur got _everywhere_ , and they were positively _evil_. Like an orc. Their faces were all squished-looking, and they had this spectacular ability to sneer at you without changing their expression at all.

His lip curled involuntarily as he pinned a narrow-eyed gaze on the vermin before him. It's eerie yellow eyes with the slitted-pupils stared up at him unblinkingly, and they gleamed with an inner malicious intent. Oh, the beasts looked fluffy and innocent on the outside, with tilted heads and a curious air about them, but it was false! Only a mask. In truth, they were out for your blood. They enjoyed watching it seep from your fleshy pierced flesh. One had to be very careful when dealing with a monster such as this one.

He slowly reached out a hand, mind half-made up on what he was going to do about it. All strategic thinking seemed to have fled his mind in the face of such a villainous adversary. The orange-tabby blinked it's wide eyes up at him, ears twitching periodically as it focused it's stare on his fingers. Sticking out it's neck, the small fiend made to sniff at his palm, and Aragorn jerked back as it's face morphed into the visage of malice.

It seemed to smirk up at him, as if to say, 'What? I didn't do anything…'

Sneering down at it, he wiped his hand off on his pant leg, before using the side of his boot to roughly nudge the undesired pest aside. It skidded across the polished corridor(how did it even find entrance into the hall?), it's tiny but deadly claws making near-silent scraping noises as they tried to find purchase on the smooth stone floors, before it finally crashed against the wall with a startled mewing yelp.

Aragorn had to stifle a grin, huffing a quiet laugh of triumph, before he was brought back down to earth with a non-too-gentle hand on his shoulder. "Strider!"

He turned to see Viper staring at him, horror eclipsing those silver eyes of his. Aragorn's lips tugged downward, and Viper's gloved hand tightened on his shoulder.

"Did you just _kick_ that kitten?!"

It's hardly a _kitten_ , Aragorn wanted to say, but he only spluttered for a second. Caught off guard at the barely-hidden contempt within his friend's voice, he finally managed to get out, "I didn't kick it, Viper! I... nudged it aside with my boot."

Viper released his shoulder, and he rotated it with a wince. He loved Viper- -they _all_ did, but… the youth was never very gentle with, well, anything.

Instead, Viper clapped both hands over his still-open mouth, and continue to stare at him, before shifting his stare over to the disgusting feline that was now crouched in the corner. It mewed pitifully out to him, pointy ears flattening against it's skull.

Viper made a soft whine in the back of his throat, eyes wide, before racing over to snatch the deceitful devil up into his arms. The abomination switched to purring instantly as the teen cradled it against his chest and ran two gloved fingers along one of it's brows. It nuzzled into his palm, kneading it's claws into the black material covering the youth's forearm.

Viper walked back over to him and pinned him with a vaguely betrayed yet still icy look of immense disapproval. "You kicked it! I _saw_ you, Strider, don't lie. It flew all the way across the hall and slammed into the _wall_!"

It didn't slam into the wall, Aragorn thought in protest, unable to say a single word as the savage brute gave a disappointed mewl when the teen stopped petting it. Viper immediately began to coo at it, and ran a palm over it's head, pinning the ears down. The teen scratched two fingers under it's chin, and the cat appeared to lose itself in bliss.

Aragorn's fingers, for some reason, twitched violently, and he narrowed a positively acidic glare at the despicable creature. It opened one eye, and seemed to give him a _smug_ look. Aragorn nearly growled.

Instead, Viper growled at _him_. "I can't _believe_ you would kick a poor, defenseless kitten. Across the _hall_ , Strider! I mean, look at this face!"

Oh, Aragorn was looking, alright. The savage feline gave him a triumphant grin, sharp teeth white against it's ginger coat, and the Ranger's hands curled into fists, held tightly to his sides. The animal purred out it's smug victory into the face of the Gondorian Heir and flexed it's claws into the glove that covered the hand that held it aloft, as if to say 'this human belongs to _me_ , now.' Aragorn swallowed down a snarl and narrowed his eyes at the creature, wanting to pull out his sword and lob it's small head off.

Then, Viper repositioned the small, furry demon next to his own face and nuzzled his nose against it's whiskers. The wretched pest lost the victorious look and rubbed it's forehead against the teen's cheek. Viper gave a wide, happy grin and laughed slightly, gazing reverently at it's closed eyes.

"How could you ever be mad at a face like _this_?"

Aragorn's body lost it's tautness, and he stared at the scene with a slightly loose jaw, his breath catching. Viper's eyes were brightened to a shade that Aragorn had never seen before, nearly sparkling with adoration. His lips were now only curved upwards in a soft smile that was just so different from the usual wide, toothy grins or the sarcastic smirks the teen so often had on his face, and a direct opposite to the dark expressions Viper sometimes wore when he thought no one was looking. The young warrior cuddled lovingly with the orange tabby, pressing his face against the fur, and the cat…

The cat was loving every second of it, it appeared, purring up a storm and pressing it's own face to Viper's cheek, his forehead, his shoulder, his neck. Every time it seemed that Viper was going to stop petting it, the vile beast would press it's face to Viper's and let out an insistent meow. And Viper would laugh in delight, sometimes pressing a kiss to one of it's ears, and continue twice fold his ministrations.

Something about the scene just enraged him, and the man had no idea what it was or _why_.

Aragorn, shaking slightly, turned on his heel and strode out of the room, hand fisted and expression thunderous.

* * *

Aragorn, Heir to the Gondorian throne, did not like cats. They were incredibly rude creatures, ones that didn't leave you alone and had absolutely no concept of personal space. They followed you around, meowing loudly and insistently for attention, sometimes clawing at your legs when you didn't immediately bend over to pick them up and cuddle them.

For clarification, Viper had kept the hellspawn. It followed him everywhere, like a duckling after it's mother, and Viper spoiled it rotten. Sometimes he carried it with him or let it ride on his shoulders. The creature would purr loudly that rough, gravelly sound and rub it's head against Viper's ear or something.

To show it's love, Viper said. Aragorn was sure it was only scenting him, _marking_ him as it's own possession.

Still, Aragorn and Viper spent a lot of time around one another, being members of the fellowship. All of whom were currently staying in Gondor with him, and were always somewhere nearby. Legolas was another who tended to spent most of the day with him, along with Gimli and Boromir, and Pippin(who, to be honest, was most likely only there to follow Viper around like the cat did. Pippin of course was _not_ evil, however).

The Fellowship did spend a vast amount of time in the presence of one another, one such instance being now, in the meal hall. They were all sitting along the head table, which was reserved for the royals and the most honored guests, which Viper and the others, _of course_ , were. Viper sat at Aragorn's left, while Boromir took the left. Aragorn, unfortunately, was always forced to the the head of the table. His friends were with him, though, so it did lessen the annoyance. And the food was absolutely fine. However, as always, Viper had that _infuriating_ little beast with him.

Merry and Pippin were standing on either side of the teen's chair, and Legolas, who sat next to him, was leaning in so far that his shoulder was pressed against Viper's. All four of them were huddled over the once-more purring ginger feline, who sat proudly upon Viper's knees. When the teen paused in petting it to carry on a discussion with the elf beside him, the cat stared up at the teen with irritation for a moment, before hopping up onto the table and wandering over to Viper's plate to study it's contents curiously.

Viper turned and looked at it, before giving it the very same soft upturn of his lips that had taken away Aragorn's breath just the week before, and gathered some gravy on his gloveless finger to offer to the vermin. Aragorn's eyes narrowed, and he huffed silently. Viper never looked at any of _them_ with that happy smile- -and why _not_? They were his friends!

He startled when Boromir leaned over into his personal space and pinned him with a curious stare. Aragorn froze for some reason, and the other man studied him closely, before breaking into a wry smile. The Son of Denethor huffed a laugh under his breath.

"Brother," Boromir's low voice pacified, the man grinning over at him. "You are glaring at a _cat_."

The Ranger- -well, no, he couldn't be that ever again, could he?- -caught himself, realizing that his friend was correct. Giving his head a little shake to clear it, he opened his eyes and narrowed them at Boromir instead.

But the other only smiled good-naturedly(he had been friendly and more easy-going ever since he'd come back from the dead). He stretched his arms over his head and relaxed back into his chair, giving his empty plate a fond once-over. His gaze slid back over to meet Aragorn's.

"Why were you glaring at a cat?" He finally asked, a question the to-be king had in fact been waiting for. Which was unfortunate, because Aragorn still had yet to discover an actual answer to it.

He shook his head again, releasing a sigh. "I do not know, truthfully. I've never truly liked cats, and this one just won't seem to go away."

Boromir grinned outright at this. "Viper seems quite taken with the animal," he pointed out, and Aragorn had to stop himself from growling at him,saying that _that was the problem_ \- -because, was it really? This was news to even him. Why would Viper's love for a small feline annoy Aragorn? It shouldn't.

But it did, actually, Aragorn realized, watching Viper allow the filthy beast to lick some cream off of the teen's cheek. He was grinning again, happily, that sparkle in his eyes. Aragorn took a deep breath and slowly released it, turning back to his brother. Only to realize Boromir was now examining him very closely, grey eyes serious and imploring.

Then they widened a fraction, and Boromir's lips thinned.

"Yes, I see." He announced with a single nod, and wouldn't elaborate no matter all the prodding and question Aragorn gave. The ex-Ranger gave another sigh and returned to morosely shuffling his food around his plate with his fork.

A few hours after supper, Aragorn found himself wandering the garden area that lead toward the balcony overlooking the tone city of Minas Tirith. The night air was crisp as always, it being within the first throes of the fall season. The leaves of the trees had began to turn auburn and the flowers were wilting as they were wont to do. The wind was quite chillier than it had been only days ago, and the man tugged his cloak around his shoulder more tightly as he walked.

Turning a corner on the marble path, he pulled up short, and stared. His ire began to rise once more, having calmed since the meal, and Aragorn let out a harsh breath as the monster smirked over at him.

Viper lay on a white marble garden bench, stomach and chest pressed against the cool stone and arms circled before him to provide his head a pillow- -the position starkly identical to a more recent memory Aragorn had of Viper in Rivendell, back before the war had been won. The only difference now, however, was that the teen was bereft of his hood, and the warm cloak that came along with it. And, of course, the detestable devil that sat on top his spine like some sort of throne.

Aragorn walked over, and stopped barely an inch from the bench, staring down at the cat with a frown. Viper was, reminiscent of the past, asleep, and the cat purred up at him with smug, gleaming yellow eyes. It gently pawed at Viper's shoulder blade, claws poking out to kneed the admittedly flimsy material of Viper's tunic. Both Aragorn and the creature stilled when the teen shifted with a quiet murmur.

Aragorn was probably giving the demon filth the look Tharbadir gave _them_ when Viper was napping and they were all making too much noise, but Aragorn at the moment had no problem having parallels between him and a horse. Tharbadir was a smart horse, aliken to the Maeras. It was an honor to be compared to him.

Aragorn squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge up his nose in aggravation, raising his head to face the heavens. An honor for a horse, maybe! But he, he was the future king of _Gondor_! A very human future king, at that. What were his thoughts doing?

He turned his face back down and nearly snarled to see the demon staring up at him curiously, having stretched out languidly across the slumbering Viper's back, limbs splayed out and small snout all but buried in Viper's inky black hair. It's curiosity turned to malevolent amusement when it noticed his irritation, and it purred against Viper's shoulder.

It was soon Aragorn's turn to be amused, however, when Viper rolled over onto his back, tossing the brute off of it's self-proclaimed throne. The hellspawn, being feline, unfortunately landed nimbly on it's paws, and stared up at Viper in study. Aragorn rolled his eyes as it hopped up once more to settle against the teen's abdomen. Curling into a furry ginger ball, the orc-slime gave him one last, one-eyed stare before relaxing into a nap of it's own.

Inwardly seething at the bare, unrestrained _nerve_ of the savage beast, Aragorn looked for something else to focus on. To calm himself again, before he snapped at strangled the despicable animal. Viper would be very cross with him, should he give into these urges.

Instead, he found himself gazing at Viper's form. His face was always so relaxed in sleep, pleasantly void of any dark expression. Aragorn crouched before the bench, lowering himself to study Viper's features more closely.

The youth's eyes were closed, so he couldn't see the breathtaking silver that was uniquely Viper, but with the high cheekbones, the slim brows and the bow-shaped lips, Aragorn could certainly imagine them enough to do with. He tilted his head and traced the younger man's jawline with his eyes, letting his gaze roam to the bare, alabaster neck and collarbone that peaked out from the top of Viper's black, long-sleeved tunic. The gray vest over it was undone and definitely falling off, the shoulder sliding down his upper arms and the front laying completely open. Aragorn reached a hand out to the dangling ties, before catching himself and becoming still.

he nearly jumped out of his own skin when a dark form pounced down from the bench and landed before him, surveying the vest ties with narrow, hypnotic yellow eyes that were definitely demonic(regular cat's eyes didn't _actually glow_ in the dark, did they?) narrowed, staring. Suddenly, a paw was flung out, moving back and forth before striking again at the leather strings. The cat bat at them one more time before Aragorn's mind caught up to him and he realized what the beast was doing. With a quick, silent swat, he shooed it away temporarily before reaching out on his own, deftly readjusting the vest and tying it closed.

Standing up against, the king-t-be bent over to shift Viper's legs aside and, claiming his own spot on the bench, he sat the lethargic and slowly awakening teen up, leaning him against himself until Viper was once again aware.

Viper blinked at him sleepily, peaceful face morphing into a scowl. "Strider, what the hell? I'm tired, you can't just wake me up like tha- -"

Slightly regretful for causing the relaxed face of his friend to disappear, Aragorn nevertheless frowned back at him. "I just did. Viper, I'm _not_ letting you sleep out here. It's the _beginning of autumn_ , and it's cold! I know you don't take as good a care of yourself as you tell us you do; you haven't actually slept outside of your periodic naps during the day for nearly a _week_." With a stern, disapproving glare to the teen, Viper shut his mouth and rolled his eyes.

"I'm taking you to your rooms, and you're _going_ to _sleep_. Understand?"

With an annoyed huff, Viper crossed his arms and sat up straight. The cat leaped up onto the bench between them and gave Aragorn an enraged cat-glare, as if to threaten, 'I'm telling him you were spying on him while he slept like some sort of creepy stalker.' The ex-Ranger ignored it for now. "Jeez, take me to dinner first, at least."

Aragorn, pretty certain that he was yet again completely missing the point of Viper's(most likely)figure of speech, gave the younger warrior a confused look. "We've just eaten supper…"

Viper slumped forward, despairingly, and looked over at him with tired silver eyes. "It's only an expression, Strider. And a joke, at that. Taking someone to dinner is what a guy would do before starting to date a girl. Or other guy."

 _Dating_ ; Aragorn definitely knew what that meant. Viper had defined it aloud enough during his erratic chats with Eowyn and his sister Arwen. He felt his face heat up rather quickly, and turned his head away, thankful for the darkness of the evening. Still, he wasn't quite sure Viper _hadn't_ seen it, being the magical enigma that he was.

"I didn't mean it like that," he informed the other calmly, desperate to keep his tone level, "and you know it."

"That's why I said it was a joke," Viper told him, exasperated. Aragorn, at that, felt some inexplicable feelings of disappointed- -but _why_? Viper joked about things like this all the time. The teen next to him stretched languidly, and Aragorn distinctly, firmly drove his wandering thoughts away from the warm body that accidentally bumped into his side.

They wandered anyway, and Aragorn was soon looking closely enough at Viper to notice that the teen's skin was developing goosebumps. With a slightly annoyed sigh, the heir shrugged off his warm cloak(he didn't really need it, he wasn't that cold) and tossed it over his friend's shoulders.

Viper turned a perplexed look onto him, and the cat murred in irritation, digging itself out of the material and hopping onto the ground. Aragorn mentally sent it a malicious smirk, and raised his eyebrows at the teen beside him. The vermin wandered away for a while, hopefully forever.

"It's cold, didn't I say that? And don't think I didn't notice the goosebumps all along your arms, Viper. You need that more than me."

"It's yours though," Viper mumbled quietly, shifting his gaze to the ground. Like he was embarrassed, or something. Aragorn entertained the fleeting thought that _Viper_ was blushing, now, but... he couldn't really imagine it. Viper had never blushed.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "If you're so eager to return it to me, then why don't we head back inside, where it's warmer?"

The shy act- _-was_ it an act though? Aragorn shoved the thought aside- -suddenly vanished, and Viper turned to waggle his slim brows at him, lips curving up into an amused smirk.

"You just want to get me to _bed_." The teen snickered, and Aragorn nearly growled at him.

 _Yes_ , _I do_ , he wanted to shout, and the very thought absolutely floored him. His face fell blank, and his body completely stilled, shoulders tensing. He turned expressionless eyes down to the leaf-strewn, marble pathway and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed thickly, throat completely dry, and he tried desperately to gather his erratic thought. This time, they all came willingly.

Was that _it_? Was _this_ the reason that he felt such rage and irritation to that blasted animal? Was he jealous of the damned thing? It _couldn't_ be, Aragorn pleaded with himself, he couldn't be so.. pathetic, to be envious of a cat. He couldn't be petty enough to…

Yes, but he _was_. The man let out a harsh sigh and shook his head in despair, pulling up too many blanks and even more realizations. He was jealous, of a cat- -the cat knew it, too, and… He was attracted, to Viper.

He'd always thought he'd be wed to Arwen, his adoptive sister. Ever since he'd been a small child, he'd dreamed of marrying her as his bride; the beautiful, composed, brilliant Arwen _Evenstar_. She was all he'd ever wanted... or so he'd always imagined.

So simplistically, too. Then came Viper, snatching up his attention and taking it on the most fantastical journey he'd even been on. From the moment he'd seen that hooded individual, peeking curiously under the inn table at a mostly-terrified Frodo, he'd been interested. At first, it was just to hear the story, know who this thief in the night _was_. Then, they'd become friends, and Aragorn was worried about him. That fever, back in Rivendell; his father, Elrond, had spoken to him about it, told him what had caused it, told him Viper had nearly _starved_ himself to death. Because he simply _forgot to eat_. It was _madness_.

And when Viper had joined the Fellowship, Aragorn had had his doubts. What could this young(though, admittedly, talented) teenager bring to the group tasked with saving Arda? It wasn't until Viper had fell with Gandalf in the mine, not until they'd thought they'd lost him forever, that Aragorn and the rest of the party realized just how much he'd given them. Viper was the reason they'd escaped from a lot of tight spots- -Viper was the reason Boromir was _alive_.

It wasn't until he experienced the unbearably heavy, overwhelming grief in the face of Viper's sudden demise, that Aragorn had realized just how close he'd become with the younger man. And the shining, all-encompassing, giddy _joy_ he'd felt when Viper had seemingly returned from the dead, having given up an eternity in the Undying Lands of Valinor to come back to them and help them finish the war…

He still hadn't sorted those feelings out, figured out what half of them actually meant. Not until not. And ever since then, they'd only grown. Aragorn's heart stuttered; he was very much out of his depth.

"Strider?" The quiet, nearly timid voice was back again, and the heir snapped back into focus. Viper was staring at him with wide eyes, something akin to panic swimming right below the surface. "I'm sorry. I didn't- -um, I didn't mean to- -"

Aragorn cleared his throat shakily, standing up. From his seat on the bench, Viper watched him, eyes filled with something like despair. Or apprehension. One could never quite read Viper correctly.

Reaching out, Aragorn tugged the teen up with him by the upper arm. Pulling his friend- -yes... his friend- -forward, he wrapped his arms around him and realized Viper was actually _trembling_ from the cold.

With a shake of his head, he ground out, "No, I know you meant nothing by it. Let's," he cleared his throat. "Let's get you inside before you freeze, hm?"

Viper buried his face into Aragorn's collar and mumbled something, but his voice was so soft that the older man couldn't hear it. They stood like that for a moment, Viper most likely attempting to leech all of his warmth from him, and Aragorn not ready to let go just yet.

It ended too soon, of course, when the cat let out a very impatient yowl, and Viper jumped away from him with wide silver eyes. Aragorn stiffened, rage slowly growing tenfold what it had been before as the teen spun around and crouched to accept the small, _breakable_ (and oh, didn't Aragorn wish), orc-kin into his arms, cuddling the wretched thing close to his chest.

"Sorry, Ginny, I... forgot you were there." Viper said the thing's _name_ , abashedly. He seemed to ignore Aragorn's presence for now, but the man still counted it a small victory that he caused his… friend to forget about his _pet_ for a few long minutes.

Viper cast a fleeting glance back at him, before slipping the cloak off and depositing it into Aragorn's arms. With a quick, 'thank you,' the teen vanished down the path back to the castle, hopefully off to his rooms to sleep through the night like Aragorn had suggested.

Over his shoulders, slowly disappearing along with him, Aragorn could see the monster staring back at him, yellow eyes wide and laughing.

* * *

Aragorn, Heir to the Gondorian throne, _hated_ cats with a burning passion. They were smug, deceitful little bastards, looking innocent and sweet but secretly plotting to kill you and everyone you loved. They invaded your life and stole all the attention from the person you had feelings for, and they _knew_ it. They did it on purpose, even.

Aragorn knew this, from experience.

It had been two months since that blasted demon had shown it's face, and two weeks since Aragorn had realized that he loved Viper on a different level than he'd once thought. Since then, he'd sometimes found himself staring at Viper at times, more than he had before. Watching the younger man spar with the guard, switching from his daggers to swords to whips and even books if they annoyed him during his off-hours. Watching him play with his food at the table when he thought Elrond, Glorfindel, or the dwarves, who had all come to visit, weren't looking. Searching for him and finding all the odd spots he napped him, then watching him curl up into the most flexible positions that most often had the effect of making Aragorn's mouth go dry.

In all honesty, he wasn't even doing _anything_ different than he had before, which makes Aragorn wonder _how on earth_ he hadn't realized this all sooner. And when Boromir caught him staring almost longingly over at Viper, at the younger man's slender fingers, at his mouth, at his tongue when it ran along his bottom lips to lap up some leftover drink; the other man would lean over, look from Viper to him, and give a wide, leering smirk, as if he knew. Aragorn wondered when _he'd_ found out, then realized it was probably that one meal Boromir had realized Aragorn held a… distinct _dislike_ for cats.

Speaking of the demon spawn, Viper still took it along _everywhere_. In fact, they'd just gone out on a ride, and the younger man had actually allowed the pest to ride in his saddle with him! Tharbadir seemed to have no problem with the little orc creature; in fact, the noble horse seemed to have grown into a sort of kinship with it, which lead Aragorn to wonder if Tharbadir did in fact harbor the same possessiveness of Viper that the cat did. He'd have to watch himself around the stallion from now on, just in case.

Aragorn waved off the servant that had come over to dismantle his riding gear for him, wanting to do it himself. he needed something to do, to take his mind off of things. Unfortunately, cleaning up after a ride was mundane, mindless task, and Aragorn found himself thinking ever more on things. He shoved the saddle up onto the wall with more force than he thought might be necessary.

Spinning around on his heel, he held out an apple to his steed and cast an eye over to Tharbadir's stall, where Viper was brushing the stallion off. Once finished, the teen wandered over and held the horse's head in his arms, nuzzling his cheek against it's coat. Tharbadir ate something out of his palm, most likely a sugar cube- -Viper did enjoy spoiling his ride, even if the youth denied it.

Said ride noticed him staring at his rider, and Aragorn swallowed thickly when the stallion's eye caught his. The horse gave him a once-over, it seemed, then snorted loudly, and nosed Viper's pockets, searching for more treats and looking highly amused and almost smug when Viper laughed and gave him another, planting a kiss right under the stallion's eye.

Aragorn twitched, then turned, leaving the rest of the chore to the servant that had been waiting idly by as he stalked from the stables.

That damned horse was a cat on the inside!

Only an hour later at supper, Aragorn found himself frowning at the empty seat to his right. Boromir, in all sense, should be teasing him right about now, something to do with his 'crush' on Viper(that man was infuriating! He wouldn't leave Aragorn alone!), but instead, he was also staring at the empty chair, an identical frown upon his own face.

"Do you think he's started skipping meals again?" Boromir murmured to him, lips pursed.

Aragorn shook his head, letting out an aggravated sigh. "No, I already look for him in all his usual places. If he was skipping, he'd be in one of them. He wasn't."

Boromir stared over at him, surprised. Rightly so, Aragorn thought somewhat guiltily. He'd become the expert at locating Viper, and anyone looking for the youth who couldn't find him knew to come to the king-to-be to find out the enigma's whereabout, because Aragorn would most certainly know, somehow. he refused to say it was because he stalked Viper- -he didn't. He only… observed. Yes, he _observed_.

And his observation, right now, was that Viper was... mysteriously absent, and it wasn't because he had thrown out Elrond's warnings about meals and was hiding from the elven healer(though, Aragorn's father was sitting a few chairs down and had most certainly realized the youth's absence, by the elf's disapproving scowl). It wasn't because he wasn't hungry, or had lost track of the time and wasn't aware that it was dinner.

Or perhaps, Aragorn thought, sitting upright, that _was_ it. Viper was talented, of course, and he could tell the time of day just by glancing up at the sun's position, but the youth was easily distracted, and something might have caught his interest for long enough that the man had disregarded the meal time.

Aragorn sighed, leveling a searching glance across the hall. Nearly everyone in the castle was present for supper, and the servants that weren't currently tending to the meal and guests were eating in the next hall over, a smaller hall reserved for the castle staff.

It would certainly be noticed by all, if he were to leave, and people would soon enough realize that neither the king-to-be nor Viper of the Poison Blood were present. Rumor would no doubt arise, but... Aragorn certainly didn't mind that at all. And Viper, well, that man had laughed in the face of Sauron himself, some rumors about his love-life(or otherwise, most definitely) wouldn't shake the youth an inch.

Standing from his seat, he ignored the vaguely alarmed look Boromir tossed him, and the way that the entire hall had quieted to see if he was about to give an address. He _wasn't_ , so he sent them all a nod, and Boromir's shoulder a firm pat as he passed, moving along toward the doors. "There is something that requires my attention," he told the hall apologetically. With a smile, he slipped out the doors and wandered down the corridors, eyes roaming the scene.

An hour later, he felt like he'd walked every foot of the damned castle and was about to expand his search to the gardens when the object of his hatred stepped out into his sight. With a quick glance around, he determined that Viper was nowhere to be seen, and gave the small, furry balrog an icy glare.

"What do you _want_?" He hissed. He usually didn't talk to animals, aside from horses, and much less in the Common Tongue(horses couldn't understand that… except Tharbadir, but he was _Viper's_ horse), but Viper had rubbed off on all of them; 'go to hell,' was a fairly common insult even to the Gondorian public, despite the fact that none aside from Viper even knew what what the word 'hell' meant.

The cat stared up at him, then gave a meow that sounded insistent. Aragorn had been around the thing long enough to know that it wasn't just looking to be pet(besides the fact that it would never come to _him_ to be pet, and much less that Aragorn would actually _commit_ such an act), but rather the animal was actually quite spooked by something. So, rather than brushing past the beast, like he would normally do, Aragorn only stood there as it approached him, watching it with a perplexed expression.

"What _do_ you want?" He repeated, with less rage and more inquisitive. The cat stopped, looked up to him, meowed once more, then took off racing down the corridor. It stopped, turned back to him, meowed again, and trotted back to him to stare. Then it repeated, growing more frisky and moews becoming more urgent the more turns it completely.

Aragorn stared at the thing, absolutely perplexed by it's strange actions, until he finally realized the creature of hell actually wanted him to _follow_ it.

Hesitantly(because he did not put any ounce of trust into this orc pest at all), he stepped forward, and was soon flying down the halls behind it, being led out into the furthest garden that no one ever ventured into- -mostly because some servant had concocted a horror story of ghosts that resided within it.

It was one of the more wild gardens, not quite as kept as the others, because not very many servants were courageous enough to venture into it. Aragorn knew the stories were falsified by a bored servant; he knew, as well, that this garden was sure to be vacant by all living souls.

He also knew this was the place Viper would go to when he wanted to be alone.

He quickened his pace, worried. His mind pulled facts and assumptions together quickly; Viper wanted to be alone right now, for whatever reason. Then the demon feline that was always, always by his side and vying for his attentions had come out of it _alone_ , seeking _Aragorn_ to lead him back to where Viper most likely currently was.

Either something was wrong with Viper, or the cat was finally enacting it's plan to kill him and was leading Aragorn into an ambush from it's feline friends who were waiting in the trees for him to come.

It was quite ingenious, he thought as he ran down the pathway behind the small devil; this garden was all but abandoned, and was also the quietest place in Gondor- -no one would find his body here until the next brave servant came to attempt to tame the vegetation.

His mind continued to wander incessantly, his feet thudding against the marble pathway until he jerked to a sudden stop, eyes still locked on the cat who was now sitting and staring up at him with impatient, imploring yellow eyes.

He blinked, then glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped. Viper was on the ground slightly off the path, curled up beneath a willow tree. His legs were drawn up to his chest and the youth was hugging them tightly, trying to breath. Those breaths came in short pants and painful-sounding gasps, and Aragorn's chest tightened when he heard a sob or two sneak their way out.

Forgetting all about the cat(who looked proud that it had lead him to Viper), Aragorn raced over to the younger man and fell to his knees beside him, clasping on hand on his back and using the other to collect Viper into his arms, holding him tight against his chest.

"Viper," He called desperately, voice as firm and strong as he could get it. "Please breath. I don't know what's wrong, but please, calm yourself. Everything is fine, everything is alright. There's nothing here to fear. Sh, Viper, listen to me. Listen to my voice. Please calm down, _breath_."

Slowly, Aragorn coaxed Viper to breath along with him, moving into the position Boromir had told him he and Legolas had done for Viper back in Rivendell, when the youth had suffered a similar attack. Hugging the teen, his chest pressed against Viper's back, he breathed, waiting for Viper to follow his lead. It felt like hours until Viper went limp and collapsed back against him, head lolling until it was rested on Aragorn's shoulder. Viper panted, looking absolutely exhausted, eyes red and face paler than it should be. The younger man just sat with him and breathed for a few moments, before he bit his lip and buried his face into Aragorn's shoulder.

Curling his arms around his friend, Aragorn let the teen cling back to him. Viper shook slightly, but the trembling was slowly beginning to cease now that Viper was breathing correctly, and Aragorn only sighed, resting his chin on top an inky black head.

Even after Viper was calm again, they remained in this position for what seemed like a lifetime, but in reality was probably only an hour or so. Viper was pressed against him, head on his shoulder and breath warming Aragorn's neck and collarbones. Aragorn pressed his face into Viper's hair, breathing in deeply the scent of hickory wood and lavender- -Viper always smelled like plants and flowers. Boromir told him he thought Viper smelled of chrysanthemums.

Soon enough, Aragorn's pleasant silence ended, and Viper shifted in his arms, wriggling slightly. With a forlorn sigh, for he'd known this time was coming, he reluctantly released his friend.

To his surprise, however, Viper only turned and shifted closer to him, wrapping his arms around Aragorn's neck and pressing his face to the skin below his neck.

"Thank you," the youth murmured, voice raw from the battle for breath he'd just experienced. Aragorn dipped his own head down and, in the spur of the moment, pressed a kiss to the younger man's forehead.

Viper jerked back, eyes wide- -but Aragorn was tired, and far past caring. "Did you expect me to just stand there and watch you die from suffocation?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm making it's way through. Aragorn rolled his eyes when Viper said nothing, only staring at him with impossibly wide silver eyes. He pressed their cheeks together for a moment, before turning his head and pressing his lips to the youth's cheek instead. "I could never do such a thing, Viper. I love you too much to watch you cry."

The breath that Viper had hard fought for escaped him, then, and the man watched him, jaw slack. He mouthed a word, and Aragorn found himself laughing helplessly in the face of it.

"Yes, I do," He said, bumping Viper's nose with his own. "I love you, I admit it. Is that alright?"

Viper couldn't seem to get a word out, and Aragorn wanted to make some comment about finally getting the chatty man to shut up, but he found himself speechless as well. So, instead of words, the king-to-be leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Viper's own.

Viper jerked to awareness, then, and relaxed into his arms completely, a breathless laugh fleeing from the mouth Aragorn had so boldly claimed. Aragorn was overjoyed to find Viper responding positively to his kiss, and clutched the younger man against him tightly- -perhaps afraid that, if he were to let go, Viper would disappear. He wasn't embarrassed, however; Viper seemed to be holding on to him even _tighter_.

There was an annoyed meow, And the two of them broke apart to look at the devil spawn that sat on top a knotted root of the willow tree, staring at them almost like it had been betrayed. Aragorn gave it a smug smile, before casting it an annoyed look of his own, for it daring to interrupt him.

Viper glanced between them, before breaking out into delighted laughter.

" _Oh_ ," he gasped, nearly crying again. "Y-You were _jealous_ of a cat! Strider!"

Aragorn huffed dejectedly, pressing his lips to Viper's temple. "Of course I was, it was stealing all of your attention from me!"

That, of course, only made the youth laugh harder. The cat hopped down to trot over to Viper, but the teen calmed and, to Aragon's surprise and utter joy, pushed the feline creature away.

"Not right now, Ginny, okay?" He asked softly, with a small smirk. The cat stared up at him, then seemed to sigh. it gave a pitiful mew, cast Aragorn a deadly, chilling cat-glare, and trotted off into the bushes with it's tail held high.

 _Ha_ , Aragorn wanted to say. _I won_.

Apparently he had said it loud, because Viper was suddenly pressed all against him, trembling from another bout of laughter. "Just don't let it go to your head," the man whispered, and leaning in to catch Aragorn's mouth with his own.

Aragorn's heart fluttered, and he wrapped Viper in his arms and kissed him back.

Aragorn, Heir to the Gondorian throne, held a very prominent dislike for members of the feline species. That was _alright_ , though. They now held a truce, sort of.

He left them alone, they left him alone. That way, neither of them would snap and try to kill the other. They only had one thing in common, and that was Viper.

The cat seemed content enough to share, knowing he made Viper happy was enough. Aragorn, however, knew Viper was all _his_.

* * *

 **Thank god, I finished. Here's Another. Proffesional. Tragedist's gift ficlet. Sorry if it's not quite what you were thinking, I'm kind of hopeless at romance *cringes* Also, this turned out to be longer than I expected. By a lot. Sorry about that too ^.^'**

 **Anyway! I'll be posting all the other gift ficlets to this story, so make sure to follow it so that you get notified when the next comes out!**

 **Love you~!**

 **~Skye**


	3. Slot 2: Soluna Skystar

**Slot #2**

 **Soluna Skystar**

 **Fam Find's Out**

 **Words: 8286**

* * *

Clearing the mines of Moria unscathed was a stroke of luck that Gandalf, as it appeared, did not think they'd encounter on their journey.

Viper knew why. Goblins and trolls and orcs, and that weird, knobby-kneed little not-Hobbit. Schmee-something. The immortal's colorless eyes slid over to Frodo, who was walking alongside Sam, talking with his friend in low murmurs and hugging his pack to his chest like it was a teddy-bear. He could tell by the Shireling's face, deep and introspective with gleaming blue eyes, that Frodo was still considering Viper's take on killing Schmee. He knew without looking that Gandalf was steadfast in his opinion of being merciful.

Viper knew exactly what mercy was, however, and it definitely wasn't what the old man was hell-bent on defending. Viper was possibly the only being in the universe who understood life so _thoroughly_ , hated it so _deeply_ , and longed for death so _completely_ , that mercy was a very clear concept to him. He knew what was merciful and what wasn't. Leaving that bald little gremlin alive was probably the most heartless plan that Gandalf, in all his grandfatherly ways, could support. (Yet another parallel to another old man Viper had known, long ago and many worlds before. A good man, a learned man who liked puzzles. A man that, even with all his wisdom, was still so very naive.)

Viper didn't even need to look at the tiny, pale-skinned creeper to know he'd suffered. His own doing, surely, but the influence of the mind was an extremely powerful thing. Just look what it had done to Frodo's uncle! And Bilbo was such a kind soul. Prideful and clearly fading away, but kind. Schmee, on the other hand, had suffered a fate much worse than Bilbo. He'd been driven out and alone with the blasted ring for years and years. He hadn't faded, he'd _wasted away_.

Killing him would be the kindest thing anyone had ever done for him. Of that, Viper was absolutely certain. It might seem cruel, to those who understood less, but Frodo and especially Sam seemed not to be the type.

Sure, it was a notion that weighed heavily on the conscience, but Viper's had wavered and fallen many, many worlds ago. He didn't particularly care what happened to Schmee (whose name sounded awfully familiar, now that he thought about it. A quicksilver image of the gremlin, all plumped up and dressed as a pirate, passed through his mind's eye, but the immortal teen batted it away with a confused frown), but the entire story seemed to plague Frodo in such an odd way. Even if Viper didn't understand why, he'd try his best to help it.

"Here," Strider was saying, and Viper blinked over at him owlishly. The man paused for a moment and stared back at him before a small, barely-there smirk curved his lips upward. "We'll stop here for the night."

Viper's brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, wondering. He thought back and realized Boromir had smiled at him in a similar manner on the way out of Moria. As had Gimli, though the ginger (and it was ginger, no matter what the dwarf said) beard made it difficult to see; actually hadn't Legolas looked at him like that too? Why on earth?

Viper pursed his lips, frustrated when he didn't immediately come across the answer. He gave a silent huff and tossed his bag- -that he'd eventually been coerced to take back from Pippin, which was completely unfair since _he'd_ given _his_ bags to poor Sam to carry- -onto the ground and stood there for a moment, frowning down at it.

He heard a snicker and cast Pippin and Merry a poisonous glare. It shut them up immediately, and Merry may have even turned a little pale, which pleased Viper and made the immortal relax some.

Strider and Boromir set out to gather some firewood while Gimli helped Legolas with laying out the bedrolls. Viper plopped right down on the ground next to his pack and crossed his legs, sighing morosely. So far, this trip had been far below his expectations. The only thing exciting to happen was when they'd become trapped in the mines- -but even that had ended up being boring! Sure, they'd narrowly escaped being goblin grub, but it had been too easy! Where was the suspense? The difficulty? The _character development_? Had the plot structure completely abandoned him? What did a poor immortal have to do for some _fun_ around here?

He certainly didn't want to have to _kill_ anyone, if that was what Fate wanted. Fate was a bitch anyway, Viper really didn't like doing what she wanted.

The teen cringed and bit his lip, casting a furtive glance around at his surroundings, looking for anything out of place. When nothing happened, he felt almost ill, uneasy at the calm. Usually, when he badmouthed Fate, she'd toss something horrible at him in retaliation. She was a vengeful bitch who really did not like being called a bitch, and Viper probably had to be a masochist to keep calling her that. It wasn't his fault, he'd developed a habit of it! Those were very hard to break!

"Viper? Is everything alright?"

The teen cast Legolas what he knew was a very unconvincing face of innocence, but he had to try, didn't he? Though, it seemed that Legolas hadn't noticed what he'd thought he had- -in fact, the elf looked vaguely alarmed and, glancing over at Gandalf and the hobbits, they looked worried too.

Ah.

"No, everything's fine, ha," he folded his hands together and smiled at them, a bit too nervously, and they looked absolutely un-reassured. Legolas wandered over to stand over him, staring down into his face.

Blondie frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Viper blinked up at him. Then, after a pause, the teen flashed him a confident grin. "Of course. Why?"

Legolas, ever the stoic (though completely adorable, what with his tendency for stating the obvious, and overestimating human ability) elf son of Thranduil, raised an eyebrow at him. He even placed a hand on his hip. Viper tilted his head, silently cursing him and his silence. What did Legolas expect him to do? It wasn't like Viper could read the elf's mind! Well, he _could_ , but he was sure Legolas would notice something like that, and something told him the elf wouldn't like it very much.

After a longer pause, Viper blinked again. When Legolas still didn't say anything (Gimli actually looked to be about to stalk over and interrupt), the immortal smiled hesitantly and scratched the back of his head...

 _Oh_.

Viper coughed lightly, a blush working its way across his cheeks as he flipped his hood back over his head. He missed the disappointment that crossed over the faces of his companions, too busy berating himself for being so dense. Absolutely airheaded! How could he _not_ notice his hood was still off? He didn't much mind the others seeing his face; it was more that he'd completely forgotten he'd been showing it off in the first place. Was that what he was now? Forgetful? _No!_

Entirely embarrassed with himself, the immortal curled inward and hugged his knees to his chest, sighing irritably. His hands curled around his elbows and the teen buried his face into the tops of his knees immediately upon the notice that he was _still missing a glove_ \- -yet another oversight. Something else he'd forgotten! Actually, hadn't he even reminded himself to conjure up a new glove later?

Well, it was later, and one of his hands had a glove while the other did not.

"I thought you said everything was fine?" Legolas asked somewhat bemusedly, and Viper quietly groaned.

"It is," he insisted. "It's fine, everything's _fine_."

Undoubtedly, they didn't believe him.

That was alright, because he didn't believe him either. It was obvious that he was slowly, ever-so slowly, becoming _senile-_ -and wasn't that just the most terrifying thought?

* * *

Strider and Boromir returned soon after Viper's dilemma, dropping large armfuls of sticks onto the ground, right in the center of where Gimli and Legolas had circled the bedrolls around. Pippin and Merry (and Sam, actually) were bemoaning the suddenly very obvious lack of a full meal that they all had while Frodo was entirely engrossed in a quiet discussion with Gandalf.

Viper, over the course of about three minutes, had slowly scooted himself over to the nearest bedroll and was now sprawled out across it on his stomach with his arms supporting his head. Just before the two humans got back from their wooden scavenger hunt, he'd turned to smother his face in his forearms and was now intent on taking a nap.

Sleep, however, as it often decided to do when Viper was traveling, did not come easily, and the immortal was soon suspended in a sort of not-sleep one got when they were so close, almost there, but not yet unconscious. The rest of the world existed in this murky, muted atmosphere that didn't quite silence his surroundings, but certainly tried to. Instead, it seemed to amplify voices just so, and Viper was becoming very frustrated. He just wanted to sleep, not eavesdrop on everyone's conversations!

"- -built entirely upon the trees that were chosen to bear them," Legolas was telling the hobbits(bar Frodo, who was still listening to Gandalf wax poetic nonsense about ignoring Viper's claims about mercy kills, and how much Schmee should be pitied. Scummy old man- -Viper knew what he was talking about, _dammit_!)

"Really?" Pippin asked, sounding amazed. "I mean, we've heard Bilbo tell stories- -but I didn't think elf houses were tree-houses!"

"I don't think they're just regular tree houses, Pip," Merry sounded like he was frowning. "Legolas is talking about an entire palace, here. Dontcha think that's a bit more... well, _more_?"

Legolas gave this little, indulgent laugh. "I am not well-versed enough in Hobbit architecture to know what your 'tree-houses' look like, but I can assure you that Mirkwood was crafted with the natural beauty of the nature around it in mind. All the trees remain alive, and some of them have grown to be very large since construction."

"Sounds all _sorts_ of complicated," Pippin replied, as Boromir and Strider's voices began to argue about fire-starting techniques in the background. "Us hobbits prefer our grassy hills and round doors, we do. Trees are nice, I'd like to think, but they sound a little bit too high of the ground for me."

"What about dwarven abodes, eh?" Gimli's rough baritone, louder than the other's voices for some odd reason, sounded. "What d'ye think of them, then?"

"Not to be rude, or anything," Pippin chimed doubtfully, "but, if they're anything like Moria was, I'd rather opt out." Merry made a vague agreeing noise in the back of his throat, and Viper thought he heard Legolas snicker a little.

Gimli, on the other hand, made a rather affronted sound. "Moria'd be an unfair example, what with how it is now that them ugly little wastrels taken over it once more," he sniffed mournfully. "The hospitality of a real dwarf colony- -Aye, now that, laddie, is somethin' ter look forward to!"

"Wait until you experience Gondor as a privileged guest," Boromir cut in, sounding almost triumphant- -but that might have been because he'd won the little dispute on who would be starting the fire. Strider had wandered off to sit by Gandalf and sulk.

"I like that city best at sundown, I think," the Steward's son told them as he leaned forward to coax the flames out. "And we throw excellent parties if I do say so myself."

"Do you, though?" Pippin asked keenly, interested.

Boromir tossed his stirring stick in the fire- -from what the sudden crackle of sparks told, and straightened up to claim one of the remaining bedrolls for himself. "I do!"

"I've traveled a lot in my life," Strider spoke up wistfully from his spot over by the fallen tree Gandalf and Frodo occupied. "Nothing triumphs Rivendell in its splendor, however. The elves and their banquets…" He shook his head and chuckled.

Boromir, Viper thought, was probably opening his mouth for a witty quip and an argument that Gondor was clearly superior, but Merry interrupted him.

"What about your home, Viper? What's it like?"

Sleep, now realizing that they wanted Viper's attention, deftly punted him out to face the hungry wolves, and the immortal groaned- _-dammit_ , _Sleep!_ Whatever, though; it's not like he really needed it, anyway. Dying due to insomnia wasn't the _worst_ way to go, and the hallucinations were certainly entertaining enough.

"I'm sleeping." He almost demanded. It really was a lost cause now that they'd called him out specifically and had brought him back to full awareness, but that didn't mean he had to _like_ it.

"No, you're not," Boromir said amusedly, swatting him over the head with a movement that was more of a fond pat than anything else.

The teen huffed, pushing himself up to lean on his elbows. He sent the lot of them his best put-out face to let them know he was unhappy with their prodding. "I was."

"You're not now, though," Frodo laughed as he nearly pranced over to their little group. He plopped right down next to where Sam was sitting and cast Viper a small smile. "So tell us about your home- -did you grown up on that other continent?"

At his words, the others- -especially the hobbits- -grew even more interested, and Viper pouted. Still, he tilted his head thoughtfully and considered it. What was something he could say that wasn't an outright lie? The best lies were built on truth, and this was more of a… _alternate story_ , if anything. If he'd been born in this world, where would he have lived? What would he have become? Certainly, whatever it was, it was better than this existence he toted now. _Anything_ was better than this.

It was something he thought about often, really. With each new world he came across, the wistful thoughts and fantasies came with it. If he'd been born in this world, he may have become a carpenter, perhaps. In _this_ world, maybe he'd have been a blacksmith; he did like making things. And what about _this_ world, with no magic? Well, the military seemed interesting enough, and he definitely was a fighting spirit. He may have ended up there.

What if. Maybe. Might have. Nothing, really, in the end, and sometimes Viper was disgusted with himself for losing his mind to the thoughts, but he just couldn't help it. _What if_ he'd been born to this world? _Maybe_ he'd have actually had a family. He _might have_ even grown up to be a politician. _Who honestly knew_?

He wouldn't. He'd never know.

It was, truth to be told, perhaps one of the worst things Viper subjected himself to.

He was _definitely_ a masochist.

Viper pursed his lips and rolled over. You learn something new about yourself every day, he supposed.

"Viper," Pippin nearly whined, reaching out to poke the teen in the arm. Viper swatted his finger away with a huff. "C'mon, tell us!"

"Yeah," he finally relented, and everyone's expression seemed to brighten. Ugh, it was awful. "I grew up over there. What about it?"

It was nearly the truth, anyway. He'd spent most of his time in this particular world in Alagaesia anyway. He'd only made his way over to explore Middle Earth very recently, and was honestly still in the throes of even just working out the _languages_ for himself, much less the history. It was all still somewhat new to him- -a breath of fresh air, if anything was.

"What is it like over there?" Sam asked, eyes nearly pleading. Viper crumbled immediately- -he'd always been a sucker for the puppy eyes, sure, but Sam nailed them every time (that was, of course, nothing to say about Legolas, but Viper refused to think about that now).

"Hm," He hummed vaguely, tilted his head back to stare up at the starry sky. He shifted on his elbows to get the blood circulating again and tilted his head.

What was Alagaesia like, in comparison to Arda? "Dragons," he said, and watched their eyes- -Legolas and Gandalf's in particular, widen significantly. "Lots and lots of dragons."

Then, before they could say anything, Viper frowned and tacked on, "Well, _before_ , at least. There's kind of a distinct lack of dragons now that they're all sort of dead. Not _all_ of them, I mean, but… most of them. And," he continued; because hey, might as well, now that he was talking, "There're the mountains. _Lots_ of mountains ranges, of course, especially in the West- -they call that the Spine, but there's one in the south that's absolutely _colossal_. They call them the Beor Mountains. They reach… really high," Viper trailed off, looking puzzled at how to really explain them. One didn't just _describe_ the Beor Mountains.

"How high?" Frodo asked, leaning forward, eyes round and curious. Viper considered him for a moment.

"There's no end to them," he grinned, twisting himself around to sit up. He crossed his legs and took a breath- -Alright, story time, then? "I heard that some of them reach even ten _miles_ high- -"

"Impossible," Legolas muttered under his breath, and even Gimli the dwarf looked stunned. Viper smirked.

"No, it's true! Possibly the tallest mountains I've ever seen in my _life_ , I swear!" It was the actual truth, too. Never in any world had Viper encountered mountains as enormous as the Beor mountains. "You can't actually see their peaks, they're so high, it's just sort of this… big _wall_ of ice and snow, up there. Not even the Dragon Rider's can reach them, and they can _fly_."

"Dragon riders?" Legolas lurched forward, completely gobsmacked, and Viper laughed at the face he was making.

"Yeah, they've got elves over there too," he confided, and really enjoyed the way they were taken by amazement. "History has it that one elf made a pact with this one dragon, and after years of war, the two races decided a truce. After that, they were allies and joined one another in battle. There are probably only three or four dragons left in all of Alagaesia, and all but maybe one of them has a Rider."

"What about these mountains, then?" Gimli grunted, looking equally as stunned to hear about the dragons but, as all dwarves were, was more interested in the mountains. "They habitable?"

"Of course" Viper waved a hand dismissively. "Lots of animals- -that are all a lot larger than their kin, I assure you. Beor animals tend to be very large."

"Why's it called _B-Beor_?" Merry questioned, tilting his head at the strange, foreign syllables that he had a tough time wrapping his tongue around.

"It's not, really," Viper shrugged. "I mean, that's what we call it but they actually have a real name. No one but the dwarves know the real name, though, and they sure aren't telling."

"Dwarves?" Gimli nearly demanded, leaning forward himself.

"Sure, dwarves!" Viper exclaimed. "What, did you think you were the only ones? The Beor mountains are home to most all of the dwarven clans, and there's one specific mountain that holds their capital, _Tronjheim_. The mountain is called _Farthun Dûr_. It's a city-mountain, and it's said that it took generations to build."

"City mountain?"

Viper grinned, almost excited to share his own amazement. "Yup. One of the biggest mountains in the Beor range, and it's been completely hollowed out to make way for the largest Dwarven city in all of Alagaesia!"

Gimli seemed to be shaking with excitement, but Viper shook his head and forged on.

"Enough of that, though, let's talk about the elves- -they've got some interesting homeland too." Gimli seemed to deflate while Legolas straightened with interest, and Viper nearly cackled. "Let's see now, the north is utterly covered with forest and wooded lands. All the elves have secluded themselves up in there, since they seem to like trees so much, in a place they call _Du Weldenvarden_. _Ellesméra_ is their capital. I've been there, and it's probably one of the eeriest places in this world. Beautiful, sure, but all of those elves are the strong, silent types, and awfully mysterious."

Boromir narrowed his eyes. "This land have any orcs?"

The others seemed to sour at the thought, and Viper gave an annoyed sigh. "No, but they have something like them. Not really, I mean, they're more _berserker tribes_ than anything. They're called Urgles, and they're extremely bloodthirsty and remind me a lot of orcs. But I've met one personally when they allied with my friends in a war once. They're actually pretty honorable if you have their trust. Mostly uneducated, in the normal sense of the word, so they make up for that in brute force. They have their own families of course, so I'd say they're about the same as any other race, just seen as evil when they aren't, really. Not inherently, at least."

"What about your home?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes in thought. "You haven't said anything about that, yet."

Viper shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his lap. The others had seemed so interested in what he'd been saying(excitement in Legolas and Gimli for hearing about their kinsmen across the eastern- -in terms of Arda- -sea, and an odd sort of longing from all of them, for a land without the infestation of orcs). He'd been hoping they'd forget about it, too distracted by everything else he'd been tossing at them.

Where to live? He'd been to them all, many times, so what would fit his childhood best?

"Alagaesia is essentially made up of four main… kingdoms, I guess you could call them. There are the elves, in the north, and the dwarves in the south-east. There's also this huge dessert in the center of the continent, but it's not really inhabited by any people. There is a human-ruled empire, that takes up most of the western coast, called the Broddring Empire. Then, there's this smaller country in the south called Surda. That's where I grew up."

Strider blinked, and settled down on the bedroll next to Viper's. "What's it like?"

Viper chewed on his bottom lip, thoughtfully. "Mostly grassland. A bit like Rohan in that aspect, I think. The beaches on the coastlines can be really nice in the summertime, though. It's nestled right next to the Beors, so you just have to glance to your left a little to see them."

"It sounds nice," says Boromir, who'd frequented Rohan enough to become somewhat fond of the land. "And your family lived there, with you?"

Viper hunched his shoulders a bit at that, countenance darkening. Strider scowled and punched Boromir, who looked absolutely regretful, in the arm, but Viper was too busy thinking on how to spin things in his story to notice.

"I lived with my uncle," he began slowly, staring at his hands in his lap. "He was… an aristocrat- -he owned a bit of land and had some people who worked under him to harvest it all when the crop turned. My parents were killed when I was very young, so he and my aunt took me in, to… raise me alongside their own son."

He'd faltered a bit on the word ' _raised_ ,' since Viper knew painfully well that Vernon and Petunia had failed rather horribly in that aspect of things. The other's, however, had picked up on his hesitance, and now most of them were frowning.

He cleared his throat and noticed he was back to hugging his knees. Shaking his head, the immortal continued, "Anyway, I left home when I was still really young." As soon as I could, was left unsaid, but clearly still there, and the teen winced. "I didn't really see any of my family again, after that."

"Where'd you go?" Pippin asked, voiced hushed. He looked a little sad, and Viper's lips turned downward.

"I traveled around the Broddring Empire a bit. Kept mostly to the coastal towns, but there's this one really big lake that I visited a lot, called _Leona_. There was another one closer to Surda, called _Tiidosten_ , and I liked that one too. The _Tiidosten_ was closer to the Hadarac desert, so it was a lot warmer than the _Leona_. I stayed for a long while in a town on the east coast in a city called _Teirm_ , which was right at the mouth of the river that fed into _Leona_ lake. It's this big trading town, surrounded by a huge white wall that's a good hundred feet thick. It's all built with heavy defenses since it was often attacked by pirates. Made it real easy for thieves and the like to run about inside, though," Viper grinned at them, rubbing his hands together. "That was a fun time, I'll tell you."

"You were a thief?" Strider asked, sounding more exasperated than anything. The others looked across at him fondly, as if they'd expected nothing less than that.

Viper hummed, scooting closer to the fire. He rubbed his hands together again, and Legolas tossed him a blanket from the pile of packs they'd tossed to the side. The teen smiled gratefully.

"Sure thing. Since the wall was added early on, the city only had one direction to grow, and that was _up_. Building's got progressively taller, and it was ridiculously easy to scale them up and down. Lots of chases, and _very_ entertaining." He smirked, and got some more head shakes and even more smiles. " _Teirm_ was a hub of education, too, believe it or not. At first, I just stuck around since it was the city my parents had lived in before they died. Eventually, though, I took some time and dipped into funds to attend one of their universities for a while, got an education. _Yes_ , I am actually very smart and learned, _thank you_." He sniffed at the mockingly shocked looks of surprise.

They laughed at him. Viper crossed his arms- -how rude!

"'Course," and here, he rolled his eyes, "then the crazy guy who murdered my parents hears I'm in town, and goes after me. Predictable, _sure_ , but I was going to school, y'know? Sort of made it a bit difficult to study, with someone like that breathing down my neck."

"You got him, right?" Frodo asked, hurriedly, and the rest of them were casting him worried looks- -like V was still a problem, or something. Viper laughed- -he was way over it, already.

"Of course I did!" He chuckled. "I mean… well, he was this dictator of a king, and it took a while, and I ended up allying myself with the _Varden-_ -a revolutionary organization- -and made friends with elves and dwarves and urgles and sort of got adopted by this Dragon Rider along the way- -but I eventually took care of him and he didn't bother me again." He ignored their wide-eyed looks and flopped back against his bedroll with a loud sigh. "Of course, then the entire Empire had to go through a political overhaul, and we switched some governments around- _-Teirm_ became a city-state and there were a ton of negotiations with stuffy old guys who should _really_ just retire already and leave the positions to the younger generation, but I digress. Boring stuff, I tell you."

"As long as he's not bothering you anymore," Strider said hesitantly, and then pinned Viper with a sharp glance. "You _did_ finish your studies, though, yes?"

Viper rolled his eyes. " _Yes_ , Strider. I got all my schoolwork done before I toppled the government, don't worry."

That got him a laugh, and Viper rolled over on his bedroll to finally go to sleep. Sure, they nagged him for some more story time, like the petty little children they were, but he ignored them. It was late and he was tired and sleep would not avoid him any longer! Sure, it might try, but Viper was a hunter on a mission tonight. It couldn't hide from him; sleep would soon be his.

He drifted off eventually, to the soft murmurs of his companions' conversations around the fire.

* * *

"It's _dead_?" Viper inquired flatly, unimpressed. "Why do you keep a dead tree around, then? And in a place of honor, too. Seems pointless."

"That 'dead tree' has a lot of historical value to all of Gondor, Viper. It's a sign of hope for the future to the people." Boromir threw back at him, almost scathingly. These people were all so defensive of their homes, it was hilarious. Entertaining, too.

"Sure, but wouldn't the whole place be prettier if you had, I dunno, a _living_ tree?" Viper hedged some more and grinned delightedly when the Steward's son threw up his hands and harrumphed loudly. He was just so _fun_ to tease!

The immortal had spent all day interrogating his companions on the subject their homes, much like they had questioned him the night before. In fact, he'd even, after a few rounds, sprung a pop quiz on Pippin about the Shire. Pippin was a good one, though, and had gone along with it merrily. The other hobbits had enjoyed it as well, even joining in when Pippin had paused too long on one question in his mock-thoughtfulness, and Frodo had blurted out the answer with a grin instead.

Sure, he'd given up most of the information last night without much prompt after the beginning, but he had to do _something_ to fend off his boredom, didn't he? Spite was just his thing. Plus, the hobbits were having fun, too- -that's all that mattered, _surely_.

That it annoyed Gandalf was just a bonus.

"I'm not going to regale you with embarrassing tales about my upbringing, Viper," the old wizard sighed for the umpteenth time, and Viper had even given him his best pout! Why not, though? What was a few baby stories, anyway, but icebreakers for conversation?

"We'll stop here for the night, I think," the Istari said rather suddenly after Viper asked him again, about five minutes later. The others looked at each other and shrugged, going about to set up camp. Viper tilted his head back and looked up at the sky- -it wasn't as late as last night. In fact, he might even be tempted to say it was a bit early! He must have worn Gandalf out more than he thought.

* * *

Boromir and Aragorn stood off to the side as the elf and dwarf went about setting the camp up, all of them quietly bickering with one another. Viper disappeared behind a copse of trees to shower Tharbadir with his special brand of love, and plenty of those small sugar cubes that none of them knew where he kept on himself. That stallion was always able to sniff them out, though, much to the teen's delight. Viper certainly adored spoiling the creature.

The four hobbits arranged the bedding in a circle around where Gandalf was working up a flame, and Pippin soon drifted over to help Merry riffle through their packs for food to go with their evening meal. Aragorn shot the two a quick look, before sharing a despairing one with Boromir and nodding.

"We're going to hunt for dinner," he told the rest of them and nearly rolled his eyes when the faces of the halflings positively lit up in a pleased sort of happiness.

"If you manage to catch something and drag it back here, I might actually be able to cook something for once," Viper stated dryly as he reappeared from the vegetation. The two men shot him narrowed gazed, and he shrugged.

It wasn't anything the other's didn't think of all the time, either. All of them missed home-cooked meals like they were their own limbs. There was a particular type of starving that the hobbits and even the ones used to traveling like Aragorn and Legolas and Gandalf had to get accustomed to. Your stomach wasn't empty, per say, because you kept it sated with your dried meats and your lembas bread and your water. There was a certain _warmth_ to freshly cooked food, however, that these substitutes could not compare too. They didn't fill you as full, didn't sate you for as long, couldn't keep you going like a nice pot of stew or a sizzling steak could.

It stayed there, in the back of their minds. The longing for food that would encompass their weary, traveled selves. The urge nudged at their thoughts, never forefront, but always there.

"You cook?" Aragorn asked, giving their party's youngest member a raised brow. Viper returned it with a light-hearted scowl, arms crossing over his chest and tossing his head in a gesture reminiscent of his stallion whenever something was said that somehow offended the creature.

They immediately set their minds to scheming up ways to keep Viper away from Tharbadir for a while. The likeness was too great for comfort.

"Of course I can cook!" Viper reiterated, sounding absolutely aghast. "What civilized, educated, exemplary young man can't cook a decent meal, huh?"

He paused, and then a distinctively cruel grin that encompassed both Aragorn and Boromir crawled across his face, eyes alight like fire and brimstone. "Ah, but I forget who I converse with."

The two Gondorians shot him nearly identical looks of contempt, which made him break into a fit of thrilled laughter. The sound seemed to soften their features, but not by much, and Boromir turned a glare on him.

"That's enough out of you," he insisted, grabbing for his crossbow and stalking to the edge of the woods. Legolas leaped up with his bow in hand, looking eager to join them and rub the fact that he could actually shoot a real arrow in Boromir's face. The sandy-haired son of the Steward sent him a nasty, narrow-eyed stare, but didn't say anything as Aragorn ushered them both into the trees.

"We'll be back before nightfall, in the least," the king-to-be called over his shoulder, and the trio soon disappeared from all natural senses.

Viper immediately collapsed upon the nearest bedroll, pointing a finger halfheartedly at the pile of tinder at Gandalf's feet. It immediately burst into flames, and the elderly wizard shot the teen a disdainful glance. Viper grinned cheekily back up at him.

" _Ajooz_ ," he said. When no one even looked up at the nonsense words falling from his lips, he pouted and laid on his side. "You'd think your magic would make forming flames a simpler task, would you not?"

Frodo and Gimli shared an exasperated look, rolling their eyes at one another even as Pippin snickered (for which Merry hit him on the arm). It was common knowledge, now, that Viper quite plainly did not take Gandalf's Istari magic seriously, in any sense of the word. The old wizard didn't necessarily mind Viper's conviction, in fact he practically ignored it in favor of humoring the teen with a short game of competition.

"Butterflies?" Gandalf asked with an indulgent smile, eyes twinkling at the way Viper's entire visage seemed to light up, ever so slowly. Youthful, silvery eyes narrowed in concentration on the crackling flames of the campfire, and Gandalf turned his attention toward twisting the gem atop his staff with a single-mindedness that came from focus. The hobbits settled themselves down eagerly for a show.

Gimli chortled merrily, plopping himself down next to Samwise as the campfire abruptly burst into a livelier dance. Tiny, fluttering wings of ember took flight, bobbing up and down like fireflies and gently following the breeze. They journeyed around the heads of their fascinated audience peacefully, holding a strange type of soothing touch to them.

Gandalf observed the tiny creatures of fire with a fond smile, before tilting his staff forward. A soft white light appeared at the end, just barely, and Viper was soon scooting forward to allow the tiny winged creature to land on the bridge of his nose. He went cross-eyed in his attempt to bring it into focus, and a soft breath escaped his mouth. Warmth settled into all their chests at the sight of the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"The lad's was a bit more showy," Gimli eventually commented, and Viper cast Gandalf a triumphant smirk.

"Can it really beat actual life, though?" Frodo asked, gazing at the butterfly that was now on Viper's cheek to the trail of tiny lights disappearing past the tops of the trees to join the stars.

"Fire is the very _definition_ of life, my dear halfling." Viper caught the butterfly on the tip of his finger and laid back down, avidly examining his new friend. "You have it in your very soul, that light; a spark that keeps you going. The strength of your will, the defenses of your mind, the very energy that travels through your body. It's all a type of _fire_ , in its own right."

"Viper is correct," Gandalf admitted, and they all watched the Istar's creation jaunt off into the evening breeze. Viper pouted at its departure, but soon turned a catlike grin on their eldest companion.

"So that means I win, does it?" He asked, and Gandalf sighed.

"Yes, but it is now your turn." He allowed, and Viper cheered, turning onto his back to think of a new prompt word.

Pippin leaned over to nudge at his fellow hobbits. "Hey," his whispered. "That's 34 wins for Mister Viper, isn't it?"

"Gandalf's still in the lead by about four points, though," Frodo pointed out, and they all sat back to watch Viper think.

Before the teen could come up with anything, however, Merry tilted his head and interrupted.

"Hey, Viper?"

"Hmm?" The teen tilted his head bright back at him, a playful smirk on his face.

"You know that evil king you said ruled the big people kingdom, back in your home?"

Having the topic of Alagaesia suddenly brought up again, the corner's of Viper's mouth tilted downward. They pretended not to notice, but the easygoing air they'd previously been enjoying wasn't there anymore. Pippin, Sam, and Frodo shot Merry each a scowl. He shrugged helplessly at them.

"Yes, what about him?"

"Well…" Merry shifted uneasily, turning his attention away from the fact that he was suddenly not the most popular person in the camp at the moment. "You said he was after you specifically, right? Why was that?"

And suddenly, Viper was in another one of his bad moods. Merry winced, really regretting his decision to indulge in his curiosity now. Viper's bad moods weren't really fun for anybody- -the last time he'd fallen into one, he'd unintentionally hurt Gandalf's feelings, the night they'd stayed under the abandoned aqueduct. Come to think of it, that was the night they'd learned of the "curse" that Viper suffered from, where the teen had to see all of his friends die before him (they were determined to prove that curse wrong, but something inside him told Merry that they weren't really quite aware of what they were getting into).

"... There was a prophecy about it," Viper eventually said, shifting on his bedroll and clutching the rather flat pillow to his chest, looking altogether unhappy. "It said that a child of those who'd "thrice defied him" would bring about his downfall. Unfortunately, he caught word of it, and it just so happened that my parents were one of the couples that fit the bill. So he came after my family. He got my parents, but a friend managed to get me away in time. Took me to my aunt and uncle's home to be raised in safety."

He looked dubious of just how " _safe_ " his aunt and uncle's home had been, and something stirred worriedly in their guts.

"So you had to fight him?" Frodo asked, frowning at the idea.

Viper nodded, though. "Prophecy said that I was- -" he paused for a moment, looking off to the side in thought, before continuing. "It said I was the only who could kill him. And since there were quite a number of people who really wanted him dead, I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. Of course, it didn't help that he kept trying to kill _me_. I guess you could say I eventually just got sick of it and offed him anyway."

"An unfortunate lot of luck, there," Gimli offered his sympathies, and Viper graced him with a short, minute smile that had the rest of them relaxing, even if only a bit.

"Well, I've always had quite rotten luck," Viper mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow morosely. "If you'll believe me on that."

They did, as a matter of fact, and none of them spoke again until Aragorn and his fellow hunters trooped back into the clearing with a nice-sized boar carried across their shoulders.

* * *

"And where did you say you learned to cook, again?" Aragorn demanded when Viper stole away his prize and began to rid it of its skin and undesirable organs.

The teen worked the knife with a type of skill that none of them had seen outside of a master chef, before, and Viper tossed them all a hesitant but winning smile.

"...You could say I started young."

"How young was that?" Boromir asked, nabbing one of the slimy eyes for himself and popping it into his mouth. He ignored the utterly disgusted looks from the others this action garnered, and the unbridled horror that shone in the faces of the hobbits as he chewed on his snack. Viper grinned cheerfully at him.

"Ah, I was pretty young, I think. Don't actually remember how young, so it must've been quite early on."

Legolas tossed him a suspicious glance as he helped the teen strip the skin of his prey. "You said your uncle was a lord, did you not? Why would you have to learn to cook your own meals?"

Viper paused at that, and a somewhat uncertain expression crossed his features. It disappeared just as quickly, however, and he scratched the side of his face with a bloodied hand and a somewhat sheepish smile, ignoring the disgruntled noise the hobbits made at such an unsanitary gesture.

"They weren't very fond of me, if you can believe it. I think uncle said something about- -," he cleared his throat, focusing his attention solely on his work now as he spoke, "- -about learning _humility_ , or something or other."

He missed the dark looks his explanation received from his companions, so intent on stripping flesh from bone and cutting the liver free.

"Put a pot on over the fire, Merry."

"We don't have a pot, Mister Viper."

Viper snapped his fingers, and Merry made a curious noise in the back of his throat when he found this to no longer be much of a problem.

There was a stifling sort of quiet in the air as Viper sent hobbit after hobbit to fetch him herbs and borrow him the seasonings that Sam kept in his bags ("Don't you give me that look, Samwise, I know they're there, in the third pocket- -yes, that's right. Hand them over."), and even sent Gimli off to fetch some more water. Soon, however, there was a stew simmering within the pot over the fire, and a simple delicious smell wafting through the air. The hobbits were practically salivating, longing expressions twisting their young faces into something almost frightening. Legolas sat off to the side, eventually falling into a near-silent quarrel with Gimli, hushed voices strained against the confined of their throats in their attempt to keep it quiet, and Aragorn was speaking in low tones with Gandalf near the tree stump when Viper called them all to eat.

They, in a fit of common sense, waited for the hobbits to ravage the stew pot to get first helpings and, in the midsts of their delighted moans, went forth to serve themselves.

" _Th-This_ is…" Aragorn seemed absolutely speechless when he took his first spoonful, eyes widening. "Viper, how did you learn to make this?"

Viper raised a brow at him from over his own bowl and took a long draw of the heavy broth before answering. "What? It's not like it's a recipe or anything, Strider. I just threw a bunch of things that sounded good together in a bowl and stirred. Pretty simple, if you ask me."

"No," Gimli refused to believe it. "No, you had to have done something magical to this. 'Tis far too delicious for any natural…" He trailed off at the dark, narrow-eyed stare he was suddenly pinned under, and gulped. Viper's eyes could look absolutely menacing when he wanted them to.

"Are you somehow insulting _my_ cooking skills, dwarf?" The teen asked, casual voice providing a hint of steel.

"N-No, of course not!" Gimli fell over himself, backtracking. "I was just sayin'- -"

"Thought not," Viper interrupted cheerfully, taking another bite of his own meal. "I mean, my ears deceive me sometimes, so I wasn't sure, right?"

"Right," Gimli agreed uncertainly, but since Viper seemed happy enough, he relaxed.

* * *

"Oh, sh- -!"

" _Viper_!" Several voices called out disapprovingly. Boromir went as far as to cover the nearest hobbit's ears in a vain attempt of preserving innocence, but Pippin grinned unrepentantly, already knowing this particular curse word himself.

"Ow," the admonished teen whined, clutching his left arm to his chest protectively. He took a peek down at it for a moment, poking curiously at the cut, before letting out another whine and hugging it closer. He cast the troublesome bear they'd had the deplorable luck of coming across the cubs of- -or at least, it's corpse- -a hurt look, eyes wide and offended.

"Here, let me see," Legolas was at his side in an instant, trying to tug Viper's arm free, but the teen held tight. "Viper, let me _see-_ -"

"No, no, it's fine." Viper insisted, watching the elf with an increasingly wary expression. He even began to back away, but stopped when Legolas looked at him with the patented sad-blonde-elf look.

Thranduil would have toppled _nations_ if he'd had even an ounce of his son's puppy-dog skills.

"That doesn't work on me," Viper still tried, but he grumbled under his breath and offering out his injured arm anyway.

"That's pretty deep," Aragorn noted from over his elf friend's shoulder, and Viper gave the older man an accusing look when he made no move to save him. "Long reach, too- -you'll have to take your shirt off, Viper."

" _Hell_ to the no," Viper immediately refused, crossing his arms around his midsection in his self-hug protective stance.

"Come now," Gandalf spoke up. "We're all males here. It's nothing we haven't seen before, my boy."

As predicted, Viper slowly began to crumble after Gandalf used the term of endearment his old mentor apparently had once used as well, and the teen was soon cursing all old men and their stupid manipulative streaks in a variety of languages under his breath, as he stripped off his outer vest. Gandalf smiled serenely.

His smile, of course, soon disappeared when Viper eventually did take his shirt off and offered up his collection of scars for everyone to see.

"Viper?" Aragorn began, voice vaguely strangled, eyes fixated on a certain point on the teen's shoulder. Viper sighed.

"Yeah, Strider?"

"Where's that from?" Aragorn pointed out the old burn mark, finger just shy of touching the skin. "And that one?" He asked of another, smaller healed over gash beneath it.

Viper twisted around in an attempt to view his own shoulder blades, and eventually gave up with a shrug. "I was an unruly child."

There were likely no other words that could freeze their blood quite as fast as those had.

"I'm sorry?" Boromir choked, stumbling forward and catching himself with a hand clasped to Viper's shoulder.

Viper watched him, and the rest of them, a bit too closely to be comfortable- -but then again, _nothing_ about this scene was comfortable in the least.

"I was an unruly child," he repeated and shrugged once more. "My uncle saw fit to try and stamp that particular characteristic out of me before it got to be too much for him." Then, he continued on in a darker, lower voice, more to himself than them, "Not that that helped him, any."

"Why?" Boromir demanded. The hobbits seemed far too stunned for words, eyes round and disbelieving. "Were you not his family?"

"Not really," Viper said, allowing the silent Legolas to dress his wound before quickly tugging his shirt and vest back on without any more ado.

"Freaks weren't allowed in his family," he murmured, barely a breath, but they still heard it.

"Freaks?" Gandalf questioned, eyes and voice sharp, searching. Viper's snapped up to meet his own, barely visible from beneath the hood he'd just flipped over his head. They stared at one another for a single, silent moment, before Viper turned on his heel and made for the trees.

"I think I sleep up high, tonight," he told them all thoughtfully. His voice sounded distant and not-all-there.

They watched him disappear among the foliage, heard Tharbadir's disgruntled and worried (he was a horse, they had to remind themselves, time and time again) neighing, felt the teen's presence elevate in regards to their own.

They turned their discontent and cool looks upon one another, and for once, they were all in total agreement about one thing; the Fellowship was not very fond of Viper's supposed "family" in the least.

Maybe one day they could _do_ something about it.

Deep in his gut, Merry doubted it.

* * *

 **Writing this one was like pulling teeth, l** _ **et me tell you**_ **. I don't like how it turned out, at all, really. It's all broken up, and choppy in places, and doesn't really flow together at** _ **all**_ **, and doesn't exactly follow the prompt in the way that I wanted, and I just am very unsatisfied with it? I'm also so sorry that it took me this long to get out, but as you know; pulling teeth is a difficult and terribly time-consuming job.**

 **Anyway, hopefully, the next ficlet will come easier to me. Also, happy birthday Soluna! You said that was soon, so I wanted to say it first :)**

 **Thanks for reading this… well, this disastrous hurricane of a drabble, more like. Hopefully I'll do better on the next one :/**

 **I hope you guys don't expect all of them to be thing dang long though *face desks* I didn't mean for it to go on for so long, I just had too much idea to make it as short as I'd planned initially, ahaha...**

 **~Skye**


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